It’s been a busy twelve hours.  I’m short on sleep so I’ll show now and tell more a little later . . . . Pansy & new lambs:  Pucci & Gucci Curious flock checks out the new arrivals: Above, Donatella (using brother Gianni as a pillow). A smug looking Hugo, almost a week old. No pics of my latest arrivals, born around 6 this morning.  Buttercup delivered a ewe and ram: Chanel and Dior. By now, you have probably figured out this year’s name theme. ********************************************************************************************* copyright 2008, Barbara Parry, Foxfire Fiber & Designs.  All rights reserved.
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My week began with a barn check at day break.    The sound of rustling straw via the audio monitor pulled me from sleep, so I decided to head on over to the barn for a peek at the ewes.  It’s early April, maple syrup season is winding down and my barn, brimming with expectant mothers, is still void  of lambs.  It feels a little weird. An inspection of the birthing ward revealed nothing out of the ordinary.   As the sun filled the barn the girls were shuffling back and forth along the feeders, eyeing me, hoping for an early
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Six inches of fresh snow on Friday.  Although the calendar says spring, clearly winter hasn’t released its hold on New England.   Ordinarily winter is a season I enjoy.  This year’s impressive (record-breaking) snowfall amounts dampened my enthusiasm, however.  While I hope we have seen the last snow of the season, I’m taking this chance to share some scenes and observations from earlier this winter. On days when the sheep were reluctant to leave the barn, feeding hay on fresh snow was one way to get them outside for some exercise.   Sheep love chasing a toboggan full of hay.  I was
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It all starts here . . . Shearing day marks a new beginning at the farm each year.  On the heels of winter, our shearer Andy Rice arrives in the morning, clippers ready to relieve the sheep of the heavy fleeces they’ve been wearing all year long.  Ten to twelve pounds of wool covers the back of each animal and some can barely see through the wooly top knots that have grown down over their faces. A seasoned crew arrives to help.  The procession to the shearing barn is a bit like a parade, minus the floats, with our llama
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